


We Should Just Kiss Like Real People Do

by gaygh0stt



Series: Honey Just Put Your Sweet Lips On My Lips [1]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Gay Disasters, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Beta, One Shot, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Canon, They get really drunk, We Die Like Men, curt doesn't know how to express his feelings, honestly idek what this is, kind of, or at least curt does, owen is pining, owen is soft, that's just how it be sometimes, there's a lot of them, this turned out a lot angstier than i intended, well neither of them do really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 12:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaygh0stt/pseuds/gaygh0stt
Summary: Curt gets a little too drunk and confesses everything.





	We Should Just Kiss Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched Spies are Forever a few days ago and it's dragged me in and taken over my heart.  
This is the first fanfic I've written in a while, really the first time I've written in a while, and the first time I've posted on here, so I hope it's good! I'm honestly pretty anxious about posting my work but I'm gonna do it!  
Honestly, this took a completely different turn than what I had planned, but I guess it still worked.  
Title is from 'Like Real People Do' by Hozier, cause I'm trash

Owen could tell that Curt needed a drink, and honestly, so did he. It had been another long day of work with nothing to show for it. The mission was a total bust and both men were in poor spirits, but Curt seemed more affected than normal. Curt walked alongside him as they made their way through the darkened streets back to the hotel they’d been staying at. The usual confidence in which he carried himself had disappeared and his face was devoid of energy. It saddened Owen to see him this way, so glum and down on himself. All he wanted to do was bring a smile back to his face and make him feel loved. Owen paused and looked back at Curt, who had begun to lag behind. He was too focused on watching the ground to realize that Owen had stopped in front of him and almost bumped into the other man, only looking up when Owen placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Curt, darling, I don’t mean any offense, but you look like shit.” Curt just grunted and tried to push past him. Owen let out a sigh and slung his arm around Curt’s slumped shoulders, “Okay buddy, we’re getting drinks. We can’t have you moping around all night and pretending I don’t exist.” This sparked something in Curt’s eyes and brought a weak smile to his face.

“Thanks, I could definitely go for a drink right now,” his voice was soft and sounded sad but relieved. Owen grinned, taking even a hint of happiness as a win, and tightened his grip on Curt’s shoulders as he led him to search for a bar. 

Within an hour of drinking, Curt’s spirits had lifted and Owen felt quite pleased with himself. The worry that previously hung over him had faded and been replaced by warmth and adoration for his partner. Curt was a mess, and while Owen didn’t support his habit of drinking away his sorrows, he would do anything to see that bright smile as much as possible. Honestly, if Curt was a mess, then Owen was an even bigger mess. His foolish heart had fallen for the other agent and there was nothing he could do about it. At this point, Owen was over the panic of falling for his idiotic partner, his male partner, and just accepted that it was something he would have to live with. Even if Curt would never reciprocate his feelings, he could still be his best friend and be a nice constant in his life, and that was enough for him. But now, Curt was laughing and smiling at him, seeming the happiest he had in a while, and though it was the result of alcohol and horrible coping mechanisms, it made Owen’s heart ache with longing. God, he was too sober for this.

Owen ordered himself another drink and tried to focus on what Curt was saying. He had stopped taking in his words awhile ago and had just been listening to the sound of his voice and desperately trying to resist the urge to kiss him. He nursed his drink and continued watching as Curt rambled on about whatever came to his mind. Curt glanced back up at him, already on his fourth drink, and gave him a questioning look. “Are you really still on your second drink, I thought we were supposed to be getting drunk and forgetting about our failures?” he asked, though the teasing tilt to his voice showed he was only teasing.

Owen rolled his eyes, “Well one of us has to stay at least a little sober, love, we can’t have us getting into an even bigger mess because we decided to go get way too drunk at a shitty bar.” Curt scoffed and downed the rest of his drink, giving Owen a bright smile.

“So is that permission for me to get way too drunk?” He leaned further across the booth and Owen’s heart clenched at the proximity. Instead of doing something he would regret, Owen just leaned back and shook his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Mega.”

Curt took this as permission enough to get another drink and happily went back to talking about whatever he had been before. Owen felt slightly guilty about letting Curt drink more while he held back, but it was true, they couldn’t have both of them too drunk to make it back to their hotel safely. At least that’s what Owen kept telling himself. He enjoyed watching his partner let loose and be himself, free from the stress of their job, but the guilt wouldn’t leave as he watched Curt down his fifth drink and keep going. Curt was getting giddier and was starting to ramble and slur more and more. Owen definitely needed to cut him off, and this time he didn’t let the satisfaction of seeing Curt happy stop him. “Okay Curt, I think that’s enough,” Curt gave him a pout but Owen cut him off before he could object, “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel, you’re going to regret this tomorrow darling.” Owen stood up and walked over to Curt’s side of the booth, prepared to drag him out of the bar if he had to. Curt grumbled something under his breath but reluctantly stood and slumped into Owen’s side upon realizing he was barely steady enough to walk.

“‘Atta boy, let’s get out of here.”

The walk back was difficult with Curt hanging onto Owen’s side, and Curt had reverted back to silence as they made their way to the hotel. His giddiness from the bar had all but disappeared and Owen worried that he had done something wrong. Keeping his friend from over drinking was not a terrible crime, but Curt apparently thought it was. Owen tried to strike up conversation again, but Curt ignored him and stared blankly ahead, eyes glazed over. Somehow, he seemed more gloomy than when the night began. Owen sighed and nudged him in the side, “Are you really giving me the silent treatment for making you stop drinking?” Curt looked up at him and shrugged.

“Just thinking,” he looked down to his feet, “maybe a little too much.”

“Why don’t you think out loud, you can talk to me about it if you want, love.”

It was Curt’s turn to sigh, “I don’t want to bother you with my personal issues Owen.”

“I really don’t mind, we all need someone to talk to from time to time.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Curt seemed to retreat even more into himself, his openness from earlier completely gone. Owen couldn’t help the hurt he felt at being shut out. He wanted to push more and get Curt to open up to him, but instead, he left it and walked the rest of the way in silence.

They made it to their shared hotel room and Curt collapsed into his bed, not bothering to even kick off his shoes. He looked pathetic and Owen wanted more than anything to gather him in his arms and kiss him. But he could never do that. If he was ever found out, he would be absolutely screwed. Not to mention the incredibly low chances that Curt was even interested in men, let alone interested in him. Owen made his way across the room to sit on his own bed; Curt didn’t move an inch. Owen couldn’t take the silence anymore, he had to do something. He couldn’t sit there while his partner was so clearly upset. 

“Curt, please talk to me,” he begged. Curt shifted only to turn away from Owen and bury his face further in his pillow. Owen raised his voice, “Curt, I’m not going to let you lie there and mope all night.” Still no response. Owen got back to his feet and walked over to Curt. “Curt I swear to god I will tickle you if you don’t talk to me right now.” Curt finally looked up at him, his eyes brimming with tears. Owen’s heart shattered at the sight, so much for cheering him up. He slumped down on the bed at Curt’s feet. Resting his head in his hands, he looked over to Curt. “Please, tell me what’s wrong Curt. I don’t like seeing you this way.”

“What, not perfect enough for you? Showing emotion too much?” God, Curt sounded so hurt. “Not everyone’s perfect like you, Owen”

“Trust me, I’m not even close to perfect.”

Curt scoffed, “Stop lying, it’s not going to make me feel better. And stop pretending you care, I know you just want me to stop moping so I don’t screw up our mission anymore.”

That sent an arrow through Owen’s heart, how could Curt think he didn’t care about him? He loved him so much that it hurt and Curt could see none of it. Curt spoke again, “I wish people would just tell you what they thought of you, instead of just lying to your face.” He wiped away more tears that had rolled down his face, “You can go to sleep Owen, I know you don’t actually want to hear my problems, so just go.”

“Darling, how can you think I don’t care about you? I-”

“Stop using those fucking pet names, Carvour, you sound like a faggot.” Owen was taken aback by the coldness in Curt’s voice, but even more by the hurt. Curt’s next words were softer, but even more hurt than before, “You don’t want to seem like a faggot like me.” 

Owen froze, his throat was dry and he was trying desperately to remain calm. He steadied his breathing before trying to speak, but his voice still came out shaky. “Don’t say that Curt.”

“Why? Does the thought disgust you that much? Being seen as a faggot is that horrible to you? Is me being one that horrible?”

“Curt stop saying that word,” Owen was losing his composure, his voice raising unintentionally. Owen knew what Curt was going through, the disgust at his feelings and desires which were seen as sick by so many. Owen had been there, but he had accepted it, for the most part; Curt clearly hadn’t. And even worse, Curt thought that he was disgusted by it. Curt finally sat up, shifting his body further away from Owen.

He let out a bitter laugh, “Guess you’d be even more disgusted to know that I’m in love with you, huh?” Owen broke at that, losing all self-control he had left.  
“Curt, are you a fucking idiot! How could you think I’d be disgusted?” His voice raised more, “How can you not tell how hopelessly in love I am with you? How much I care about you? How much it hurts being around you, thinking that you could never feel the same way?”

Curt had frozen; his shoulders rigid and fingers gripping the side of the bed. He looked over to Owen, eyes red and puffy. He looked so defeated. “Stop playing with me, Owen,” his tone was sharp and cold. Owen couldn’t stop himself from tentatively placing his hand over his partner’s. He forced his voice to be firm as he spoke, but still soft.

“I’m not playing Curt.” He moved his other hand to Curt’s cheek, “I wouldn’t do that to you, love. Never.” Curt sagged against him, utterly defeated. “You have to believe me, Curt. I’m not lying.” Curt still didn’t answer, so Owen did what he had wanted to do for years. He pressed his lips to Curt’s, a silent plea for him to not push him away again. Curt softened and, much to Owen’s relief, returned the kiss. He tasted like beer and salty tears, not exactly a pleasant combination, but Owen was too content to care. All the years he thought that Curt could never return his affections, all the years he had spent beating himself up about his feelings for the other agent, all the time that Curt must have spent hating himself for what he felt; it was all for nothing. Curt did feel the same way, and he had hated himself for it. All the time that Owen spent being too much of a coward to express his feelings, Curt had been hurting even more than he had. Owen’s inability to communicate had drawn out Curt’s suffering. But kissing Curt was like a breath of fresh air. Just for a moment, he was able to forget that pain and just be with the man he loved, something he never thought would happen.

Owen pulled away slightly, only to take a breath, and rested his forehead against Curt’s. Curt’s eyes fluttered open. His eyes were still red, but the tears had dried on his face and a slight smile had formed on his lips. “Guess I really am an idiot, huh?”

Owen chuckled, “We both are, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, and thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
Constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! I really want to get better at writing and do it more :)


End file.
